The Notebook
by Alexa Piper
Summary: A series of generally unrelated oneshots. Latest: You learn something new every day...
1. Flying

**Flying**

Characters: Danny, Valerie, Maddie, Jack

Summary: Danny learns that even when you're twenty metres off the ground, it's still a good idea to keep an eye on your surroundings...

Written for phanniemay day 2

* * *

Valerie cringed as she handed Danny's unconscious form over to the paramedics. "You should probably wait for the Fentons," she advised, "since they know all about halfa physiology."

"They're on their way," one of them told her, reaching gently for Valerie's shoulder. "Look at me now, please."

Val met the woman's clear grey eyes.

"Are you hurt?"

The teen shook her head. "Nah, the idiot on the stretcher's the only one who got injured. I just caught him when he fell out of the sky."

"What exactly happened?"

Val opened her mouth, only to have her voice drowned out as Jack Fenton pulled up, horns blaring. He leaped from the vehicle, brandishing a blaster and screaming that he would take down any ghost who dared hurt his son.

Valerie waved her hands to get his attention. "Danny wasn't hurt by a ghost!" she insisted.

"I don't believe you," the overzealous hunter announced, narrowing his eyes. "What if you're behind all this, hm? Ghost huntress?"

Maddie finally managed to force open her door – the passenger side of the GAV had been damaged earlier in the week, and they had yet to fix it. "Jack, Honey, you know that Valerie and Danny are friends now," she chided.

The teen raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I promise that nothing sentient hurt Danny, so can you please put down the gun?"

Maddie craned her neck to look into the ambulance, where paramedics were strapping down a broken body. She stiffened, colour draining from her cheeks as the woman recognised her child.

"Maddie, could you come with us?" the head paramedic asked. "You know more about halfa physiology than anyone in this town."

The huntress rounded on Valerie. "What happened?" she demanded. "Why is my son covered in serious burns?"

The girl sighed, scrubbing a fist across her eyes. "It's New Year's Eve, so-"

"It is?" Jack blurted out.

Val raised an eyebrow before continuing. "Well, Danny decided to fly over the fairground and put on an aerial show, since the Children's Hospital is holding a fundraiser there. Problem is, he flew over at the wrong time, deciding to start his acrobatics at nine pm…"

Maddie sighed in exasperation. "Seriously?" she groaned.

Val nodded. "He's an idiot."

"I don't get it," Jack interrupted. "What's wrong with nine o'clock?"

"That's when parents with small children start to leave for the night," Maddie explained.

"So?"

Valerie snorted. "The idiot got hit by the first round of fireworks."


	2. This will be our Glory

**This will be our Glory**

Characters: Danny, Sam

Summary: Sam discovers just how hard it can be to let go.

Warning: Mentions of abuse and sexual themes

The lyrics belong to Paramore

* * *

Danny paused after phasing into the room, staring around himself in wonder. The familiar black and purple décor had been shredded, bits of wallpaper peeled away to reveal the plaster underneath. The covers on the bed had been destroyed, the fabric cut into little girl silhouettes that were strewn around the room. The books had been torn into pieces, the CDs and DVDs snapped, and the mirror smashed.

In the middle of it all danced Sam, wearing nothing but lacy black lingerie, with some headphones clamped tightly over her ears. Her form moved fluidly, bare feet sliced open on the shards of glass littering the floor. She twirled lightly, brandishing a metallic silver marker. This was used to scribble phrases on every available surface, and the halfa recognised snatches of lyrics from some of the young woman's favourite music. Sentences of hatred and rebellion, shouting to the world that it could never tough her again.

"Sam!" he called, moving forwards to touch her shoulder.

The delicate girl twirled to face him, mascara leaving black streaks down her cheeks.

"You asked me to bring you a bottle of red wine," he offered, holding up the object like a peace offering.

She smiled, but it seemed wrong somehow, like it had been taped over the frown. "Thanks, Danny."

He moved to ask her about the mess, stopping himself just in time and instead reaching for the cord attaching her earphones to the iPhone tucked into the waistband of lacy underwear. It tugged free, and music that he vaguely recognised filled the room.

…_I thought I would be happy by now_

_But the more I try to push it I realise_

_Gotta let go of control…_

Heading for the busted dresser, Danny poured the sanguine liquid into two waiting wineglasses. He handed one to Sam and kept the other for himself, sitting down on the edge of a slashed mattress to watch as she continued to destroy the final room of her mansion.

The investigation began when Sam graduated from Casper High. Something had snapped within the girl, and she finally went to the police. Jeremy Manson was arrested that same afternoon, the young woman watching from her bedroom window as he was dragged away.

Pamela, after questioning, was released. She had already gone, heading for a new home on the other side of the world, and leaving her daughter to make her own decisions. The Goth could have followed her mother and grandmother, but decided instead to stay behind.

He would never touch Sam again, but she was finding it nigh impossible to break free – Jeremy had been taking her for almost ten years before she decided to get rid of him. Once certain that he would be locked away, the woman had returned to her empty mansion. Standing at the front gate, she decided then and there that the cage of her childhood was going to be torn apart by her own two hands.

Danny watched as she danced; a beautiful, fragile creature that brandished the marker as though it were a sword. This was the final room, and the house was to be demolished tomorrow, the block of land put up for auction. Tears continued to stream down Sam's cheeks, and she mouthed along to the lyrics blasting from her phone, trading the marker for a steak knife. The halfa started forwards in alarm, pausing before settling again as she turned the blade to the wall, slashing the plaster as she sobbed.

…_This is how we'll dance when_

_When they try to take us down_

_This is how we'll sing it…_

She left the knife embedded in the wall, reaching for the bottle and refilling Danny's glass. Sam forewent her own, drinking straight from the bottle's mouth.

After a couple of deep gulps, Sam lowered the bottle and, impossibly, began to laugh.

The bottle hit the floor and shattered, its remaining contents spreading onto the tattered carpet in a pool of dark red. She dropped to her knees, cutting them open on the wine-covered shards.

Danny shot forwards, crouching before his high school sweetheart. Her laughter dissolved into hitching sobs, and the woman reached for the halfa, bunching his shirt in tiny fists.

"Danny?" Her voice was quiet, full of a child's vulnerability.

"Mmm?" He smoothed back her hair, rubbing a streak of silver marker off her forehead tenderly.

"You know how you asked me to marry you eighteen months ago, the day we graduated? And how I said no?"

This time, his "Mmm" was heavier, saturated with an unidentifiable emotion.

Sam looked at him with glistening amethyst eyes. "Could I change my answer?"

Danny responded with a kiss, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile that he felt her mouth mirror.

"Thank you," Sam whispered, leaning into his embrace once they broke apart. "But, Danny?"

"Hmm?" He rubbed circles into her bare lower back, feeling the girl's skin warm and soft beneath his calloused palms.

"Could you do one thing for me?" At his nod she continued. "Could you show me what it means to be loved?"

He nipped her earlobe, grinning with a flash of white teeth. "Of course! My house is empty for the evening."

"No," she insisted with a shake of her head, "here. Now. Show me, in this room, that I can still deserve to be loved."

Danny licked his lips, glancing around the trashed room before setting his eyes on the futon. It was one of the only surfaces that wasn't covered in glass, so it would have to do. The man removed Sam's phone, placing it on the floor and leaving the music playing as he lifted his love off the carpet.

…_What a mess what a mystery we've made_

_Of love and other simple things_

_Learning to forgive_

_Even when it wasn't a mistake…_

"Sam," he whispered as he lay her on the torn surface of the futon.

"Yes?" she breathed, wrapping legs around his still-clothed hips as Danny laid himself next to her.

"I love you," the man insisted, pressing himself against her lithe body, "and I'll love you for eternity."

She closed her eyes, tears slipping from beneath their lids. "Thank you," Sam choked, leaning into her fiancé's arms. "Thank you so much."


	3. The Worth of a Soul

**The Worth of a Soul**

Characters: Danny, OC

Summary: What does Danny do when he sneaks out and there are no ghosts to fight?

Warning: Mentions of suicide

* * *

Clenching her teeth, the woman hauled herself over the safety rail. Winter wind tugged at her shirt, chilling the woman to her core as she leaned forwards. Her fingers were wrapped around the rail at her back, anchoring her as she suspended herself over the darkness below. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as tears coursed down wind-whipped cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed into the empty air, loosening her fingers.

"Well, you should be," a voice sounded from… _in front of her?_

The woman opened her eyes, yelping and scrambling to press back against the bridge's safety rail. Floating before her, in that empty space far above the river swollen from winter storms, was a figure cloaked in tattered black. Strapped to its back was a common harvesting scythe, and the creature's arms were folded across its chest in a clear gesture of irritation. She could almost _feel_ the glare from beneath that cowl…

"Don't you know how precious your life is?" the reaper-esque figure demanded.

She pressed her trembling form harder against the railing. "I-I…"

"Do you know how many people you were about to _hurt?!_"

If she hadn't been so distressed, the woman might have noticed that the echoing voice cracked. As it was, she simply stood and shivered in the winter wind.

"Here," the ghost – for what else could it have been? – sighed, producing a jacket from within its cloak and holding it out. When the woman made no move to accept it, he wrapped it around her shoulders. "Now, why don't I lift you back over that barrier and we can talk?"

She stared at him with wild eyes. "Y-y-you… G-Grim Reaper…"

A visible shrug. "That's neither here nor there."

"Why is the _Grim Reaper_ stopping me from killing myself?!" she screamed, making no move to wipe at tears that continued to stream down her cheeks. "I'm a worthless failure who couldn't even keep the one man I've ever cared about!"

"Is it really worth it to throw your life away because of one stupid bloke?"

The demand struck her hard, and the woman's washed-out blue eyes widened. "He was my _everything!_"

"It's dangerous to make one thing your everything," the figure commented, moving into a position that made it look like it sat on an invisible chair in mid-air. "It's far better to spread yourself over several things, you know? There's joy to be found in even the darkest of places."

She snorted. "No, there's not. How can there be joy and beauty _here_, at Amity Park's suicide hotspot?"

"Well, there is if you can find it."

"Why look?" she demanded. "Why bother?!"

A shrug. "What is there to lose simply by looking at the beauty around you?"

"There _is_ no beauty around me!" she screamed, fingers tightening around the banister. "Don't you get it? I'm ugly, just like this godforsaken bridge! Nobody loves me!"

The creature stiffened. "I want you to think _really_ hard," he told her gently. "Look at me, and tell me once again that you're ugly and that nobody loves you."

She looked up and told him just that.

The spectre sighed, moving to float inches from her. "Everything has beauty in it," he insisted, cupping her cheek momentarily in a white-gloved hand that extended from beneath the cloak. "Is there anyone in your life who even smiles at you?"

She sniffed before nodding hesitantly. "There's… Well, I suppose that there's the guy in the apartment next door."

"Tell me about him."

She leaned against the banister, looking up at the fading moon and smiling as the wind tore at her tousled blonde curls. "He's in his eighties, and his wife died last year. He comes over sometimes, and I make him a cuppa, and he likes to try and teach me how to play cards. He doesn't really have anyone, you know?"

"And you're just going to leave him?"

The question stilled her selfish thoughts. "I…" Turning to face the ghost, she felt fresh tears slip down freezing cheeks. "Oh my gosh… I-I almost…" Her voice breaking, the woman let out a sob, collapsing against the banister. "I almost…"

A freezing hand brushed the tears away. "There, see? A reason to live." He lifted her into strong arms, floating to the safe side of the rail. "Now, how about you go home, and have a nice hot shower to warm up."

"What happens when he dies?" she blurted as she was set on her own feet again. "He's not going to be around forever, since he's got inoperable cancer!"

He tilted his head. "Find a new reason to live. Make friends. Maybe the local yoga centre or book club? That's what the last person I spoke to decided on, anyway."

"Yes," she muttered, furrowing her brow, "that actually sounds like a really good idea."

Not hearing her, the spectre continued. "My sister always comes home from the Scrabble group with really entertaining stories, and one of my old friends is often meeting up with her martial arts buddies-"

"You're not the Grim Reaper, are you?"

The ghost seemed to tense. "Uh, what makes you say that?"

A burst of self-righteous anger added heat to her accusation. "What, do you just patrol this bridge and pretend to be some all-powerful personification of Death?!"

He held up a hand. "Just so you know, Death isn't actually all-powerful – he's kind of annoying in fact – but I guess that's not really what this is about."

"Take off the cowl," she demanded.

To her surprise, he did just that.

"_Phantom?!_"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, so?"

"You… you just hang out here and talk people out of suicide?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, there're no ghosts trying to invade right now, and it's not like I'm busy or anything, so why shouldn't I?"

"Why? And if you answer with another question, I'll call the local hunters on you."

Phantom looked hurt at this. "Hey, I haven't done anything wrong!" he exclaimed, moving to sit on the banister with his back to her, legs dangling out over the river far below.

She walked over, leaning against the rail. "Sorry, I shouldn't have threatened you."

He shrugged, clearing his throat. "I failed once. Back in high school, I was a bit of a loser. That had its advantages, since I could see what went on with everyone instead of being absorbed in the popular group's affairs.

"Well, there was this one girl in the group, and she practically orbited the main girl. One day, she came to school and was really nice to everyone, including us losers. Nobody knew what to make of the sudden compliments that she gave everyone she saw, and no-one said anything nice back.

"That night, she jumped off this bridge. She'd left a note for everyone – all it said was that she felt ugly and unwanted."

His shoulders trembled, and the woman watched in wonder as a glowing tear slipped down Phantom's cheek. "I should have complimented her back when she told me that I was a really sweet guy," he whispered. "It haunts me to this day that I couldn't just tell her that she was really nice as well. It would have only taken a few seconds!" He blinked, seeming to suddenly realise what he was doing. "Oh, sorry! I'm supposed to be helping you find happiness again, but all I'm doing is dumping my own problems on you!"

"No, I wanted to know, remember?"

He shook his head. "That doesn't mean that I should've told you."

She smiled. "Well, you might not have saved her, but you _have_ saved me."

Phantom started, swinging around to stare at her with burning emerald eyes. "Really?!"

"Yeah, you have. I… I'll always look for a reason to live, 'kay?"

A grin crinkled the edges of his eyes. "Thank you," he breathed.

"No, thank _you,_" she insisted, throwing slim arms around his torso and pulling the startled ghost into a hug.

When they broke apart, Phantom was smiling so brightly that she simply had to mirror it.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, swinging to face the horizon. "Look, I _told_ you that there's beauty here!"

The woman turned in the direction he had, eyes locked on the colour that slowly began to spread across the lightening sky. "You're right." She leaned against the railing, drinking in the birth of a sunrise. "Thank you, Phantom."

When no reply was forthcoming, she faced the space beside her. The ghost was gone, leaving nothing but empty air and a quiet "Keep the jacket."


	4. Transcending the Grave

**Transcending the Grave**

Characters: Danny, Skulker

Summary: Danny comes to a startling realisation concerning the intricacies of ghost culture...

Crack from Tumblr, please don't take it too seriously...

* * *

He didn't even bother with the banter this time – charging up an ectoblast, the boy allowed it to build in his hands before condensing it into a hard ball of green energy. The core of the blast burned with a greenish-black hue, crackling with the sheer power it contained.

With a wild cry, Danny launched it at Skulker; the blast was so powerful that it disintegrated the majority of the hunter's suit. The ghost squawked in indignation, falling to the ground a few metres below as his jets were destroyed. "Calm down, Whelp! I did not come here to fight you."

Danny shrieked in frustration, grasping his hair and taking several deep breaths. "Ghosts have been coming all day and telling me that!" he shouted. "Nearly every single one of my enemies had turned up with flowers or chocolates, and acted offended when I blasted them out of the sky! In addition, I have dinner with Sam in half an hour, and if more ghosts turn up, it'll ruin my night with her!"

Skulker chuckled, wriggling out of the helmet so that he could move about freely. "Well, here you go, Whelp," he said, pulling out of the helmet's mouth a small box tied with a ribbon. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Danny dropped his hands, staring incredulously at the hunter. "Not you, too," he groaned, stooping over to claim the box. "This had better not have anything nasty in it."

The box contained what looked like some very expensive chocolate. "Nicked it from Plasmius' stash," the tiny ghost announced proudly.

Danny stared at him. "Why the _hell_ are all you guys giving me presents?"

Skulker cackled. "Of course, you wouldn't know, would you?" Danny charged an ectoblast in warning, and the tiny ghost waved a hand dismissively. "Well, you flirt with all of us, so why shouldn't we give you gifts? It's Ghost Zone culture, after all."

The power around his hands died down as Danny gaped at his hunter. "What? I do not _flirt!_"

Skulker shrugged. "In the Ghost Zone, fighting _is_ flirting, kid."

The halfa froze. "Fighting… I… I-I… _What?!_" He paced along the nature strip, pressing a hand to his mouth in realisation. "Is that why you guys keep on coming back when I chuck you in the Ghost Zone?" the teen demanded, rounding on Skulker. "Because you think that I'm _leading you guys on_ or something?"

The ghost rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. It's perfectly acceptable to have more than one mate in ghost culture, so it's fine for you to flirt with all of us." Hoisting himself up to sit on top of his scorched helmet, Skulker stretched his hands above his head with a luxurious groan. "You're excused this year because you didn't know about the custom, but next year you're expected to give gifts to all of your significant others in the Ghost Zone."

"I'll give _you_ a Valentine's gift!" Danny growled, sucking the ghost into the thermos with grim satisfaction.

With the Skulker mercifully gone, Danny stared at the small box of chocolate clasped in his hand. "Sam and Tucker're gunna _love_ this," he grumbled, stomping off in the direction of his home.


	5. WashTheDirtOffYourGrassStained Knees

**Wash the dirt off your grass-stained knees**

Characters: Fenton, Phantom, Dash

Summary: Sometimes things just don't go to plan...

Birthday request for Trance. Pitch Pearl.

* * *

Summer was here, but Daniel Fenton was determined not to enjoy the heat. Without an ice core, he felt hot and bothered even on cold days; now that the temperature was steadily rising, he felt like a beetle trapped in a bottle in full sunlight.

Still brooding over the separation from his ghost form a few months earlier, Danny found that this only made his foul mood blacker.

At least his suffering wasn't exacerbated by trudging through packed school corridors and stuffy classrooms anymore. He was fairly confident that he had passed the exams – separation from Phantom had provided the boy with adequate time to study – but he knew that with the damage of the first half of the year's performance, he would never get the marks required to become an astronaut.

He missed flying, if he was to be perfectly honest. Phantom took Danny out sometimes, but it wasn't the same as having the ability yourself. Danny missed a lot of things about being half ghost, and he was sure that Phantom missed a heck of a lot about being human. The ghost could no longer hide from hunters, and Danny had woken several times in the middle of the night to find Phantom sitting up in bed and panicking because he could no longer breathe.

Those panic attacks were hard for both of them – no matter how much the human tried to soothe the ghost, Phantom acted like he was dying. They would end up clutched in each other's arms, trying to stifle their sobbing before Maddie and Jack could wake up.

Danny had debated trying to re-combine with his ghost half, but their separation had provided something that he knew he could never give up; they were in love.

Leaning back against the trunk of the tree he lounged in, Danny closed his eyes and smiled as he recalled their first kiss. He had made the initial move, sitting on top of the town's clock tower in the middle of the night after flying as high as the human's body would allow. Phantom had responded with vigour, and Danny's smile turned to a grin as he thought about how _good_ his boyfriend's icy lips tasted, the electric fizz of ectoplasm popping on the mortal boy's tongue with a touch like fresh snow.

Their parents – Danny was adamant that Phantom still refer to them as such, even if only in private – had been _extremely_ hesitant to accept this relationship. They had no idea as of yet that Phantom was the ghost of their son, and both boys had agreed to wait a while before telling them. The hunters' reaction to their son's coming out and new relationship had initially been violent towards Phantom's person, but the situation had been defused fairly rapidly – the boys knew their own parents well enough to say what they wanted to hear, after all.

Danny's watch beeped to signal the hour, and he dropped from the branch to land in a crouch. He was going to meet Phantom in five minutes by this tree – _their_ tree – and the human didn't want to be startled into falling off his branch again.

As he landed, the human mentally cursed as he realised that the clearing that this tree helped form the border of wasn't empty.

Dash was performing some sort of martial arts pattern in the middle of the clear space, and Danny gulped as the larger boy's face twisted into a sneer. "Spying on me, Fentoenail?" the jock sneered, abandoning his pattern and stalking towards the scrawny boy. Danny backpedalled, heart fluttering as his back hit the broad trunk of their tree. He briefly debated running or climbing, but dismissed those alternative routes – if he tried to avoid it, Dash would just hurt him more.

The bully had taken every opportunity he could since school had finished two weeks ago to make Fenton suffer. Everyone supposed that this was because the jock's prestige at football hadn't been enough to save his neck this time – no amount of extra credit could make up for flunking every exam except gym. Summer school wasn't an option either, since the jock refused to give up his future football scholarship – which required mandatory attendance to a particular summer workshop for two years prior to attending the college. The fact that the entire town was aware of Dash's situation only served to make the teen's mood worse.

Dash Baxter was going to repeat their senior year, and had already been kicked out of his circle of 'friends'. As soon as word got out that he would be repeating, Paulina had turned up her nose and sauntered away from the boy. That was all it had taken for the rest of the group to follow her, leaving Dash standing completely alone. Kwan still talked to him, but only when the others weren't around. Thus, in addition to the humiliation he suffered from thanks to his dismal academic performance, Dash also found himself near-crippled with loneliness.

While everyone else celebrated their freedom and whiled away the final week until results were released, Dash took it out on the only person that he could.

"I wasn't spying, I swear!" the boy insisted. "I'm waiting to meet someone here – I didn't know you even knew about this spot!"

"Well, this is _my_ spot," the bully growled, pressing his forearm against Danny's throat in a position that both restricted the boy's airway and trapped him against the tree.

Danny couldn't help the glare that spread across his face. "It doesn't… belong… to anyone… so get… off me," he choked, moving to slam cupped hands over Dash's ears.

The jock managed to block the attack, snarling as Danny dropped to the ground. "Oooh, you're gunna get it now."

Danny shrugged, massaging his throat. "Face it, Dash – I'm not gunna be around at school for you to beat up next year. You have no audience here. What's the point in hurting me? I've never done anything to you."

The bully responded by kicking his victim in the chest as hard as possible. Danny screamed involuntarily at the sickening snap of his ribs, and Dash smirked. "Maybe I do it for myself, you know? I'm not really gunna get anywhere in life, unless I scare away the competition."

Danny clutched at his torso, his breaths fast and shallow. His mind was telling him to shut up and stop provoking the guy, but years of ignoring the voice as a halfa had him disregarding this metal warning in a heartbeat. "You're deluded," he wheezed. "The world doesn't work like that. Brains over brawn, and all."

"And where're your brains beatin' my brawn?"

Danny squeezed his eyes shut, unable to do the same with his damned mouth. "I'm not the one repeating senior year."

The second kick was as hard as the first, and in exactly the same spot. Danny held in his cry as best he could, praying for Phantom to _hurry up._

A familiar tingle down his spine – a mere shadow of his ghost sense – had the victim smiling. He opened his eyes in the hope of finding Phantom hovering over Dash's shoulder, and froze – floating there and grinning like a maniac, Skulker aimed a cannon at the boys. "Oi, human! Nobody hurts the Fenton child except me!"

Danny pulled on Dash's leg as the jock screamed in horror, tugging the larger boy to the ground just as the cannon's ectoblast scorched a black mark into the tree's surface. _Not a strong enough blast to be fatal on the first hit,_ the human observed.

Skulker adjusted his aim, and Danny threw himself over the bully, using his own body as a shield. The pain that tore through his chest at the motion rendered Danny incapable of speech, and he lay limply over his tormentor, gasping for air.

Skulker fired, and Danny felt like he was dying as the blast burned away the flesh covering his lower back. Before the ghost could charge another blast, Phantom appeared in the clearing in a blur of black and white, hands charged with green and murder shining in emerald eyes.

He didn't even bother with threats – Phantom sucked Skulker into the thermos before teleporting to his human's side. "How badly did he hurt you?!"

The human coughed, crying out at the pain it caused. "I'll live," he assured his boyfriend. "I'd be fine… but Dash here had already… beaten me up pretty bad… and I had to stop Skulker… from hurting him…"

Phantom gathered Danny into his arms, moving the human to rest against the tree. "Don't hurt Dash," the mortal gasped.

Phantom ignored him, moving to stand in front of the still-cowering jock. "Get up," the ghost demanded in a tight voice.

Dash peeked out from between his fingers and leapt to his feet in a flash, the terror on his face melting into glee. "Phantom, you came to rescue-ack!"

Phantom pinned the boy to the tree in a similar manner to how Dash had initially restrained Danny. "I should kill you," the ghost hissed, "for hurting Danny like that."

"H-he started it!"

"_You and I both know that that isn't true!_" Phantom roared, his aura flaring white. He dropped the boy to the ground, turning away. "If you _ever_ touch him again, I'll make sure that you'll be unable to father children. Now, get out of my sight."

Danny supposed that he had never seen Dash run so fast, not even on the football field.

"Thanks for not hurting him," he rasped as Phantom knelt beside him. "You can deal with Skulker however you want."

The ghost nodded, keeping his gaze downcast. "I'm sorry I wasn't here," he whispered, clenching his trembling fingers into fists. "I-I'm so sorry."

Danny painfully reached towards the ghost as Phantom began to shake violently. "It's okay," he breathed, biting back a cry as Phantom gently hugged him. The spectre pulled away at the pained sound, worry creasing his brow. "Danny –" the rest of his sentence was swallowed by the human's mouth.

Danny kissed his other half in earnest, pressing hard against those electric lips. Phantom responded with the same amount of vigour, moulding his mouth perfectly against the human's own.

When they broke apart, the ghost burst into tears. "D-Danny…"

"Shhh," the human soothed, wiping away a glowing ectoplasmic tear with the pad of his thumb. "Let's get me to the hospital, hm?"

Phantom nodded, but somewhere between gathering Danny into his arms and actually taking flight, the ghost ended up sitting on the ground. He cradled Danny tenderly, sobbing into his inky hair as the human whispered words of comfort.

They stayed like that until the sun disappeared behind the trees – it took that long for Phantom to stop shaking enough to fly.


	6. Beneath the Stars

**Beneath the Stars**

Characters: Maddie, Vlad

Summary: You learn something new every day...

* * *

Vlad tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling his cheeks and neck flush with heat. "Um, well, goodnight, Maddie."

The voluptuous young woman before him raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "Vlad…"

He gulped, making the mistake of meeting her violet eyes. The irises have so much detail, Vlad noted, like tiny galaxies. Each lash was easily visible as she shifted closer, glistening with glittery mascara and so long that the top ones almost brushed her eyebrows. "Uh, I had a great night," Vlad tried, wincing internally as his voice cracked audibly.

Maddie tilted her head. "That's not how you say goodbye on a date," she informed him in that matter-of-fact manner that Vlad loved so much.

The man attempted to stammer his way through a response, but Maddie grabbed him by shaggy black hair, her long nails scraping against his scalp; the sensation sent shivers down Vlad's spine. Pulling him down, the young woman pressed her mouth against his.

Vlad froze, eyes wide as she moved her lips, moulding them against his unresponsive mouth. His heart shot into overdrive, and the young man felt his veins light with fire. Closing his eyes, he placed his hands on Maddie's hips and attempted to reciprocate the kiss.

They broke apart, breathing heavily in pants that condensed in the chilly evening air. "Vlad…"

"Yeah?"

"You're a horrible kisser."

Vlad stared at her incredulously, and Maddie let loose a peal of laughter. "You'll learn," she promised.

He swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to run his tongue over lips that throbbed from such a new, sensual activity. "Goodnight, Maddie," he responded.

Her smile sent his slowing heart back to beating hard and fast against his ribcage. "See you later, Vlad. Thanks for the date, it was really nice!"

"That was my first kiss!" he blurted, unable to hold in the words any longer as she closed the sorority building's doors behind her.

That impossibly beautiful woman grinned at him before directing a shout through the doors' glass panels. "Well, you're gunna be a pro kisser soon enough! Ta!"

Vlad returned the grin before turning on his heel and aiming for his own dormitory, feeling for all the world as though he was floating through campus.


End file.
